8

Time kept passing since I last talked to him. Days changed to weeks. Weeks passed until it was almost a month. He shouldn't have gotten hurt. It should have been me. I clutched the "get well soon" flowers in my hand tighter as I stood in front of the room he was assigned in.

I wiped the tears that were slowly dripping down my face and put on a smile. Deep down, I knew that he probably wouldn't be awake, but I still wanted to put up a smile in front of him nonetheless.

"Guess who's back!"

I cheerfully burst through the door. Silence. That was The only answer I received. Then, the beeps of the heart rate monitor connected to him interrupted the silence.

I set the flowers on the table next to his bed and pulled up a chair next to his bed. He's still unconscious, but it's good to stay by him in case something bad happens. Also, you never know when he might wake up. I want to be there for him when he does.

I let out a long sigh and started retelling the events of my day in as much detail as possible. In a way, talking to him gave me a sense of comfort. I know what he did was very "heroic" of him, but I can't shake the lingering guilt. I should've been the one in the bed right now.

I know it's not my fault. I know he chose to do this, but why do I still feel so guilty? I stayed in his room for a little longer, then cheerfully walked towards the door. Seeing him lying helplessly on the bed, barely kept alive by the tangle of wires made my heart clench. Closing the door behind me, my eyes filled with opaque tears.

I could feel my chest tightening. My lips quivered. If it was possible to reset everything, would it have been better if we never met? Was approaching you the thing that brought on all this misfortune? Would it have been better to live forever without knowing you as long as you would be safe?

As I left the hospital, I occasionally passed nurses walking down the hallway. Every nurse I passed gave me stares of remorse or pity. I had come so often that all the staff knew who I was. And who I had come for. I quickly hid my face and looked down, wiping my tears as I exited the hospital.

With some of the tears still blurring my vision, I couldn't see clearly and accidentally bumped into someone in the parking lot. Quickly apologizing, looking up to see a familiar face. The face of the mother of the person I had just visited.

"Oh, Lily! Are you okay?"

She reached out to help me up, but I brushed her off. I couldn't take any more from her than I've already done. I already took her son. This lingering guilt really did feel like a thorn–sharp, painful, and most of all, unyielding. I felt responsible for it all, but I didn't want her to worry about me too. I don't want to selfishly pour all my problems on her.

"Ahh! I'm so clumsy. I'm sorry, Mrs. Saito! Are you alright?"

She gave me a surprised look when she noticed who had bumped into her. She looked so kind and heartfelt. Why does she still look at me so politely even after what I did to her son? I blinked to hold back my tears. Mrs. Saito probably saw the shimmer in my eyes and asked if I was alright.

"OH! It's nothing, Mrs. Saito."

Truth is, I wanted to tell her everything. But in that hospital, he's fighting for his life, and I'm simply standing and watching. Don't cry. Don't cry. It hurts holding in these tears, but I would rather keep them in than spill it to anyone, especially to Mrs. Saito. I don't want to make even more trouble for others.

Giggling softly, I swiftly wiped my tears with my sleeve and started a little conversation with her.

"Are you going to see him?"

That was stupid of me to ask. Of course she's here to see him. Why else would she be at the hospital? However, she just smiled and said, "Of course I am," in response to my question.

What made me pause was the notebook in her hand. It was the notebook I gave to him on our first "date." Curiously I asked,

"May I ask, why do you have his notebook?"

She looked down at her hands and explained to me that it was because she wanted to write down everything that he missed during his coma. We talked for a little longer. Mrs. Saito and I rarely saw each other when we visited him because of our conflicting schedules. Today was the only exception so far.

The sun glared down on us. It was so hot outside that I felt like I was suffocating. Wondering if Mrs. Saito felt the same way but was too polite to say anything, I asked if I could walk with her to the hospital, and she gladly accepted. Having agreed to continue talking on the short walk there, we started to walk towards the entrance of the hospital, and away from the scorching hot sun.

Along the way, we chatted until we reached the lobby.

"I'll wait here for you, Mrs. Saito. I've already had my time with him today! Don't worry about me!"

I smiled towards her and she gave me a nod of agreement. She walked towards the hallway, and from there, she vanished into the maze of hallways that would lead to her son.

It felt strange coming back into the hospital for some reason. Maybe it was because I literally just visited him, and now I'm sitting here in the lobby as if I didn't cry in front of the entire hospital staff.

I'm slowly sinking into treacherous waters. I can't really explain what's going on inside my head, but I'm smiling on the outside and repeating "Everything is fine," in my head like a broken record. Sure everyone sees the tears, but they don't hear the screams. They see the sadness, but they don't see my own mind tearing me apart. They say your mind is your worst enemy. They're right.

I fear for my future, only because of how easy it was to convince myself I don't need one.

He truly gives me joy. Thinking back, he was the only one who made me feel this way. Call it cliché all you want, but it's true. I used to be afraid of falling in love, because everything breaks when they fall from a certain height. But seeing him being so carefree with his feelings, it gave me a feeling of comfort I doubt anyone else would understand. Is this what "falling in love" feels like? If it is, why does it hurt so much? Shouldn't love not be this way? Guilt chased all my butterflies away.

God, my thoughts are becoming so dark. So much more depressing than usual. I quickly shook my head and smacked my cheeks with both of my hands. I shouldn't be feeling like this right now. He wouldn't like it, and he's going through so much more. I can't complain.

I tried to keep myself occupied as I waited for Mrs. Saito. Looking around the lobby, there were some people scattered around. Some had their own problems they were facing, while others (like the little kids) were forcefully dragged to the hospital only to be bored out of their minds.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone walking out of the hallway. The mother of my crush. How ironic of her to show up just as I was trying to find some way to occupy myself while waiting for her.

She spotted me waving towards her and headed in my direction. The closer she got, the more I could see how she masked her sadness with a smile. I could see through her mask because I'm hiding my sadness almost every day. The only difference is that her sadness comes from missing him while mine is the feeling of guilt from causing her sadness.

I buried my thoughts even deeper and smiled at her. We sat down next to each other in the lobby and proceeded to talk about our days and how we were doing, until I brought up the topic of the notebook once more.

"If it's not too personal, what does he write in that notebook?"

She looked down at the notebook clenched in her hands and paused before she openly talked about it.

"Oh, he kind of uses it like a diary. Usually he talks about yo-"

She coughed weirdly before awkwardly continuing.

"Y…Young thoughts! Like reminiscing about his time as a kid. It's kinda cute."

Confused, I cocked my head at her. Why did he try so hard to stop me from reading his notebook if it only had stories of his past in it? Wait. Actually, that would make sense. He never really told me much about his past. All I know is that he doesn't have a lot of friends because he was forced to transfer schools a lot. And even that small piece of information had to be weaseled out of him.

I shook the thought out of my head and proceeded to chat with Mrs. Saito for a bit longer. However, Mrs. Saito asked me one question that shocked me.

"Are you going to be okay?"

It was unexpected for a question like that to arise. Did I show weakness? Were my negative emotions too obvious? I gulped. I shouldn't overthink. Overthinking can be a bitch sometimes.

"What do you mean by that Mrs. Saito?"

Her glance at me sent shivers down my spine. I know she means well, but she's kinda scaring me a little bit.

"Don't blame yourself, okay? None of this is your fault. If anything, I should be thanking you."

Thanking me? Why aren't you blaming me? Why are you giving me such a heartfelt assurance when I've done nothing to deserve it? I don't understand. I sat there in silence as she continued speaking.

"I'm thanking you for making him smile again. After we started moving a lot, he rarely ever showed any emotions. At least until you came along. Lily, thank you for making my son happy."

In that moment, those words that were spoken directly towards me touched my heart. I didn't know how to feel. How can just one individual impact someone's life so much? Then again, I'm a hypocrite for saying that since her son changed me as well.

I held back the urge to cry. I already cried in front of hospital staff, I can't cry in front of Saito too. I'm trembling, but it's not very noticeable. Mainly just my hands. Finally, I mustered enough strength to speak up.

"Your son made me happy too." My voice broke as I said that. That was the most I could say without completely breaking down in tears. I covered it with a smile like I usually do, and hopefully it is natural enough to not make her suspicious.

Saito comfortingly smiled at me in remorse. She's so comforting and soothing. She's not kind hearted because she puts on a mask. She's kind hearted because that's how she is. Nothing about her seems forced because everything is genuine.

Suddenly, something rang in Mrs. Saito's pocket. She took out her phone and checked the time. I guess it was a business or work call.

"Ah! I lost track of time. I got too caught up in our conversation. I'm sorry Lily, but I'm going to have to cut this conversation a bit short just this once."

"Don't worry about it, Mrs. Saito! I have to head back home for dinner anyways."

We walked together to the hospital doors and waved goodbye as we went our separate ways.

I was walking home since the hospital was near my house. The scorching sun beamed down on me and the cicadas were singing, but I only had to deal with it for a little while longer. My house was right around the corner.

It's 3:43PM at the moment, so it's one of the hottest times of the day. I finally reached the gates to my home and walked in.

"I'm home!"

I shouted out as I took off my shoes at the front of the house. I heard a "welcome back" from the kitchen in response. After taking off my shoes, I headed towards the kitchen to see my mom cooking dinner.

"How was your visit?"

"It was alright, Mom. I delivered his flowers and placed them on the nightstand. Oh! And I also saw Mrs. Saito there too."

"Really? What did she say to you?"

"Nothing much. We mainly talked about her son. She had to leave early because of a work call though."

"Ahh, that's a bummer."

I looked around, trying to find where my dad was. My mom caught me looking around and guessed what my question was.

"If you're wondering where your dad is, he had to step out for some important business about an hour or so after you left the house."

"Ohhhh okay. Thanks Mom."

She turned away from me and started cutting some scallions. The sound of chopping suddenly stopped and her head popped up.

"OH! Speaking of the Saito family, I'm going to go over to their house tonight. Would you like to come?"

Hesitant, I jokingly said,

"I think I'm okay, Mom. I'll be bored out of my mind while you two talk like moms."

I grabbed a croissant and headed upstairs to my room. As I left the kitchen, I heard my mom shout from behind me,

"Hey! What is that supposed to mean?"

I closed my bedroom door behind me and flopped on my bed with the croissant in my mouth. Staring at the ceiling, I thought of everything that had happened. I felt numb. How can one person make me feel so many emotions all at once? The more I think about it, the more I feel like crying.

I shoved the last bit of croissant in my mouth and sat up. I glanced at my messy desk with all the scrunched up pieces of lined paper scattered on top.

I wonder if writing down some of my thoughts can make me feel better. Maybe, just maybe, letting it all out on the paper can relieve some of this anxiety and stress.

I got up from my bed and sat on the chair by my desk. First I'll tidy up a bit so I have some space to write. Grabbing the white lined paper, I neatly formed a stack on the side of my desk. Then, I grabbed my pencil and a sheet of lined paper and started writing.

My hand started moving across the paper with no hesitation. I just wrote. A letter perhaps? A rant? I have no clue. I just wrote whatever that popped into my head. I didn't need it to sound perfect; I just needed to get some of it out of my system.

Placing my pencil down, I shook my hand vigorously to bring the blood back into my hand after that no-pause writing session.

Glancing at what I wrote, I realized how much of a helpless romantic I really am.

To be honest, I'm kind of embarrassed with myself but I couldn't bear to rip it up or throw it away. I just put it aside and flipped the written side of the paper down on my desk. Out of sight, out of mind.

I checked my phone. It's already 5:20PM. Maybe seeing him again wouldn't hurt. Besides, I have nothing better to do at home. I opened the door to my room and walked downstairs. On the kitchen counter was a plate of food on the table for me with a hand written note from my mom.

"I'm heading to Saito's house now. Make sure to warm up the plate before you eat it. Love you!"

I put the note in my pocket and placed the food in the fridge. I'll probably eat it when I get back. Before leaving the house, I put on my shoes and made sure to lock the front door (since nobody's home). Then, I headed towards the hospital. It's only a 10 minute walk from my house and visiting hours end at 7:00PM, so I have more than enough time to visit him.

The sun was slowly setting. The hospital was just on the other side of the crosswalk, so I hurriedly speed walked to the other side and into the entrance of the hospital.

I reached into my pocket for my phone to check the time. It's 5:39PM now, so I have more than enough time to spare.

I checked in at the front desk. Surprisingly enough, the receptionist recognized me.

"Wait a minute, were you the one who dropped by a couple hours ago?"

"Oh yes! That's me hahaha."

"Ahh! I knew you looked a bit familiar. Welp, you know where his room is. Head right on down."

"Thank you!!"

I bid farewell to the nice receptionist and walked to his room.

Here I am back again, visiting him. Would he really want to see me after what I did to him? I still want to see him even if he doesn't. I'm selfish, I know, but I just can't let him go.

I opened the door to his hospital room and stepped in, closing the door behind me. What greeted me wasn't his voice, but the beeps of his heart monitor.

The chair that I had sat on when I visited him this afternoon was still in the same position where I had left it. I pulled it out and sat down again.

It was between his bed and the wall so there was little room to pull it out, but I had no trouble squeezing in.

I felt a sudden wave of sadness at seeing him. The memories overwhelmed me. His adorable reactions when I teased him. The way he smiled. Don't go. Please don't leave me.

I grasped his hand with both of mine. His hand was cold, but I'll warm it up easily. Clutching his hand tightly, I didn't know what to do next.

"Come back…"

I whispered as tears rolled down my face. I know I said I was going to stay strong in front of him, but I couldn't help crying. I buried my face in his sheets as I silently cried to myself.

I shot up. I swear his hand twitched, or was it just me swaying it? I lifted my head. Suddenly, I felt his hand grip mine tightly. He's moving…HE'S MOVING!

Almost afraid to breathe, I looked at his face to see his eyes fluttering open. His dark brown eyes were slowly opening for the first time in a month. His eyes were still half closed, but I could see his eyes searching for something.

His sleepy eyes found my teary ones and his head slowly turned towards me. A soft, raspy name slipped through his dry lips.

"Lily…?"

My tears poured out like a waterfall. I clutched at the ache in my chest, sobbing loudly with happiness, joy, and relief..

I tried so hard to apologize to him, to scold him, to explain my feelings to him, but my sobs made every word unintelligible. He's back. He's alive. I want to scream "I'm sorry." I want to spill all my worries and guilt to him. I want to yell at him for saving me instead of himself. But I can't. I'm so happy he's back. Not a day went by where I wouldn't think about him.

Welcome back, Mr. Mysterio.